100 Drabbles of Summer
by BeshterAngelus
Summary: Summertime Drabbles for Scully, Mulder, and Krycek, born from a Livejournal Challenge. Tidbits to tide one over!
1. Scully Drabbles 1 through 4

_Hello gang! I am still around, and Seasons is itching to be written, but I am in finals hell! But to amuse myself in the midst of grinding out papers on interfaith dialogue and Old Testament writings, (theological school is so MUCH fun,) I have been participating in a summer drabble contest for a bit of sanity. And so I'm sharing these with you! Enjoy, and I promise Seasons, Returns, and Partners will start creeping back up on come next week.-BeshterAngelus_

100 Drabbles of Summer-

**_Vacation-Drabble #1 _(Scully)**

The print out sat in the middle of their large, shared bed, along with a single note in his cramped, spidery writing. "This far enough away from the darkness?"

Hawai'i, first class, the two of them...alone.

She turned to Mulder standing at the door, his hazel-green eyes wary. "I figured Hawai'i is the only state we never managed to get to on a case..."

Scully wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down. It was perfect.

**_Fireworks-Drabble #2 _(Scully)**

Fireworks exploded all around them, scintillating lights bursting into glowing stars that tingled across her skin and swirled in the pit of her stomach. Soft, warm lips against hers, not pushing or prodding, just grazing her mouth in the friendliest, most chaste of polite, New Year's kisses.

Scully felt herself sway slightly as Mulder pulled away, his eyes laughing at her as he stood, smiling. "The world didn't end."

Perhaps for him it didn't...she couldn't be so certain about herself.

**_Camp-Drabble #3 _(Scully)**

The song of crickets hummed in the trees around where they huddled. To anyone else they might have been lulling, relaxing. Scully felt her arms tighten around her injured partner instinctively.

"Crickets won't eat you." His murmur was slurred, both with exhaustion and pain.

"In our experience I've found that I can't even trust that." Her world for a fire right now...or the hotel room at the conference that Mulder so eagerly wanted to avoid.

"A man can't ever take you camping, can he?"

"When did ever give you the impression I liked it?" She grumbled as she tried to hunker further against the tree, watching the woods warily.

**_Bug-Drabble #4 _(Scully)**

It didn't matter that her parents were naturalists, or that the woman made a career out of studying the mating habits of cockroaches, her name was Bambi? Obviously she must be interesting for Mulder to so totally dump Scully's phone calls to talk with her. Tall...was she a blonde or brunette? Mulder went for brunettes, so dark haired. And she could just imagine what the woman's other attributes were.

As she pulled her rental sedan up beside the lone car at the lab, Scully had a feeling the gorgeous woman with the curious look and bright smile was the afore mentioned Bambi. Yep, everything Mulder found attractive in a woman. Damn it.


	2. Mulder Drabbles 5 through 8

_For some of you who don't know, I have Livejournals for my muses, Scully has one at 1breath, but I have one for Mulder at truthandfaith and Krycek at ratboyz_fan. Feel free to check them out any time. Sometimes I post things on there I don't put on . As you will notice, I do write for the guys in the first person and Scully in the third. It's not to be sexist; it's just how the boys talk to me as opposed to Scully. Maybe it's because I'm a woman, who knows._

**Mulder Drabbles**

**Wrath-Drabble #5**

Bright copper hair caught in red, red blood...

"Did you hurt her?" Barry gagged and writhed under my fingers, pressing into his windpipe, blind rage coursing through each point of pressure I exerted. He took her, hurt her, she had screamed my name over the phone. The ghost of it echoed as Barry's eyes bulged.

It was so easy to give into that darkness, to crush him as he hurt her. But it did nothing to help me find Scully. It's the only thing that relaxed my fingers in their death grip as he choked, tumbling to the chair with sobbed apologies.

Killing him wouldn't bring her back...no matter how much I wanted to.

**Pride-Drabble #6**

_Thwap, thwap, thwap...swish..._

I know without looking she's standing on the sidelines, delicate eyebrows arched, full lips pressed into a disapproving line. After six years I've grown immune to the death glare of Dana Scully. I set up at the post and let the leather roll off my fingertips, arching through the air into the net.

"You can't hide here from Kersh forever." Her voice echoed across the court but I pretend not to listen. She thinks this is merely a test of wills...I thought Scully knew me better than that.

**Sloth-Drabble #7**

My apartment stank of week old pizza and a floating fish, bobbing on the surface of my fish tank. Yet another casualty of my attempts to probe my own memories for forgotten truths. First my fish...soon Scully. She tried to pretend, but I feel her fading with each passing day, her strength seeping away from me as the cancer ate at her. Will it be today...tomorrow...next week?

I rise slowly from the tangle of blankets, watching my deceased molly ruefully. "I should have warned you knowing me was unhealthy."

**Greed-Drabble #8**

A teaming street corner, and offer I couldn't refuse. He had me, and there was dick I could do about it. His gimlet eyes glittered as smoke rolled out of his nostrils, a medieval dragon atop his horde...and me his greatest prize.

"You can sit there so smug, you son-of-a-bitch, thinking you have me."

"I know I have you, Agent Mulder." He shrugged. "I've got what you want for Agent Scully."

"So you can what?" I spit the words. "Doesn't your greed know enough bounds, you had to take her too?"

"But you are wrong, Agent Mulder." His smile is slow and catlike. "It was you I wanted all along."


	3. Krycek Drabble 9 through 12

_100 Drabbles of Summer is being held on the charloft community on Livejournal. As you can see there is a drabble for each of the 100 days, but I'm impatient, and often I just charge through several drabbles. Because I'm running for three muses, I usually do four at a time for a muse. It makes it interesting as sometimes I get prompts I'd normally not think of for a character…especially Alex Krycek. Enjoy!_

**Krycek Drabbles**

**Lust-Drabble #9**

"We've got them on their knees, Alex."

Power burned with hunger in Marita's blue eyes, her smile curved up slowly as she pulled me into the closet I called my cabin. Her fingers yanked at my jeans, nimble and quick as she nudged me to the cot, and sank gracefully to the floor.

"They're not the only ones I got on their knees, are they baby?"

Her deep, throaty chuckle was her only response.

**Envy-Drabble #10**

I'm obviously the third man, unwelcome. It isn't just the way Scully ignores me as she explains her autopsy findings, it's the looks between them, the unspoken conversations passing without words leaving their lips. This situation is much more complicated than anyone thought. This could make the mission a lot harder.

I watch them silently before leaving the morgue. Mulder's a damn, lucky son-of-a-bitch. I envied him, I really did. To find your perfect equal in every way in someone who was supposed to be your total opposite. How the hell did that happen to anyone?

I almost felt guilty doing what I was doing. It was going to kill him.

**Gluttony-Drabble #11**

It wasn't the impact of Mulder's knuckles against my face that surprised me, nor the fact that they kept raining down on my head as my knees buckled. It was the vicious delight he took in doing it.

Not that it should surprise you, _Alexi, zhopa_, you're the fuck who killed his father, be grateful you aren't dead.

"You fucking keep turning up like a cockroach, Krycek."

The blood in my mouth gurgled as I snickered. "I'm a glutton for punishment, I guess."

**Chastity-Drabble #12**

Grunts, knowing glances, muttered imprecations in Russian, most of them highly suggestive. Marita Covarrubias obviously had no idea walking into this camp what she was stepping into. Her blue eyes flickered through the crowd of one-armed men, settling briefly on my own, fake limb.

"I'm guessing a diplomat from the UN is an oddity here?"

"In Siberia?" My laugh is a harsh bark in the cold. "Jesus, it has nothing to do with you being UN. You're the first beautiful woman most of these men have seen in months...years."

That unnerved the cool exterior. "Don't worry, they are good men. They know enough about UN credentials to not harm a hair on your pretty, blonde head."


	4. Scully Drabbles 12 through 16

_Finals are over! Thank you all for reading up on my fics, and for the comments looking forward to new installments. I'm hoping to get started tomorrow. Till then, more drabbles!_

**Scully Drabbles**

**Temperance-Drabble #13**

The world wasn't supposed to spin at that unnatural angle, was it?

"What hit me?" The groan pulled up from deep within herself as Scully tried to focus on the all-too-guilty face of Frohike.

"What do you remember?" Why was he so nervous? Senses slamming into full alarm, Scully tried to sit up, but failed miserably.

"Its so weird...I don't remember drinking anything." Why did her mouth feel like she had just licked a dead cat? "I don't drink...often." Irish stereotypes be damned.

"Good, perhaps you won't remember that MIB you were feeling up in the casino."

"WHAT!"

**Charity-Drabble #14**

"What do I say to them?" She watched her mother, Maggie, across her rapidly cooling cup of coffee.

"That you understand their loss." Maggie's kindly face softened at the glimmer of her daughter's grief. "Dana, they are a family who has lost their only daughter, one who they have loved and cherished despite her physical challenges. If anyone understands that loss, it's you. It's charity for them, a kindness that you are willing to talk to them, to help them understand..."

"That's the thing, Mom," Scully stirred her drink absently, willing herself not to cry. "I don't know if I understand it myself."

**Diligence-Drabble #15**

"It's late, Scully...even the janitors have called it a night."

Scully blinked up at tall, lanky Fox Mulder, her new partner, blearily glancing at her watch. "I'm just trying to finish these reports up."

"For who?" The idea amused him. "Look, you're my new partner, but you don't need to kill yourself trying to impress me."

She snapped back, nettled. "I'm not trying to impress you, Mulder, I'm trying to be diligent in my work. Try it sometime, you might be let out of the basement more often."

**Patience-Drabble #16**

Another military base, another phone call, and Scully breaking her partner out of MP custody yet again. Already this night she had nearly been killed, along with their one suspect, and watched as a good man took a bullet that should have killed her...well, killed her earlier than the tumor in her forehead.

And there was Fox Mulder, blithely flaunting authority, watching her as two MP's led him down the hallway, filled with arrogant, righteous indignation. What would happen to that bravado when she told him their suspect was gone, that there was yet another cover up? What would he say when she told him that Agent Pendrell was dead?

When she died, which would be sooner rather than later, she better get a spot in heaven for her never-ending patience.


	5. Mulder Drabbles 17 through 20

**Mulder Drabble**

**Kindness-Drabble #17**

"Pick your poison."

Shoved in front of my face were two slices of pie, apple and cherry. I tapped the cherry plate, frowning up at Melissa Scully's laughing eyes in confusion.

"You haven't eaten in days. Pie's healthy for you."

"You're sister would argue with you on that."

"Nah, Dana would agree with me, it's how she got through med school."

We eat quietly, though I'm done first. I was ravenous after all. "Thank you."

"For?" She licked her fork and set the plate aside.

"Being so nice. You could hate me...probably should, its my fault your sister is here."

"You did nothing." Melissa glared. "Dana's choices are her own. I'm being nice because she likes you...and Mom likes you." She rose, gathering the plates. "And I like you too."

**Humility-Drabble #18**

She still looked too tiny and frail there lying on her hospital bed.

"Where were you?" Scully's eyes, too large for her drawn face, frowned at the door behind me.

"Wanted to give you some time with your family."

"Hiding from Bill?" Her smile quirked at my shrug as I fell into the chair beside her bed.

"It wasn't right celebrating without the hero of the day."

"Scully...I'm no hero, not for this."

"Humility doesn't suit you, Mulder...especially when I wouldn't be sitting here without you."

**Twilight-Drabble #19**

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this movie."

Scully laughed at my total disgust. "What, you like vampires, Mulder."

"Those aren't vampires, those are pasty teenagers who angst one another to death. Real vampires don't go out in sunlight or hang out in high schools."

"Oh yes, real vampires are pizza boys and small town sheriffs in Texas, right?"

I pause, glaring at her impudent smile. "You still have a crush on the buck-tooth sheriff, don't you?"

"Talk like that will have you sleeping on the couch tonight, Mulder."

**Dawn-Drabble #20**

Gray dawn pearled through the drab, dirty windows, crawling across to the bed. I watched it, marveling still that I was seeing it at all. I should have been dead at this point...had been dead once. How many more sunrises would I get like this...would the world get like this? I turned restlessly, watching the sky outside turn from gray to pink in slow increments.

I knew she would sense my thoughts, no matter how asleep she was. Scully's arm snaked around my middle, her face pressed against my shoulder. This felt supremely right...the only right thing in my world. I glance back towards the spill of coppery hair and blue eyes and smile. When the rest of the world went to hell, at least I would always have this.


	6. Krycek Drabbles 21 through 24

**Krycek Drabble**

**The First Thing You Broke-Drabble #21**

I had broken many things over my life. My mother's heirloom china cup, the one she had smuggled all the way from Russia with her years before. My sister's favorite Barbie doll. Countless windows in endless games of summer baseball. More girlfriends' hearts than I could count.

I'd never broken a man before...not till now. Breaking Fox Mulder had been easy. Play on his childhood fears, the loss of his sister, take away the only strong, female presence in his life in the exact same way. That had been all too easy. In the end, he was disgustingly predictable. He flaunted his weakness as a badge of honor.

I set his coffee down in front of his bleary eyes, smiling reassuringly. "Everyone is doing everything to get her back."

**Storm-Drabble #22**

Water dripped through adobe walls as thunder threatened to rattle the mud brick to the ground around our heads. I don't know if I cared so much that it was pouring enough to send the rats scuttling into the shadows around us. At least it broke the god-awful heat of the Tunisian desert and rinsed away the worst stench of the unwashed bodies.

I huddled in the corner, cradling my aching stump as I glared up at the one, lone barred window above us, the lightening crashing outside. It was rare it rained in this part of the world. But stranger things had happened…like me ending up here in the first place. I had never been caught, ever...till Strughold's operation went to hell like everything else. And I had a feeling I knew why.

If I got out of here, I vowed, as the thunder rolled outside, I would find that satanic, son-of-a-bitch and kill him myself.

**Dog Days-Drabble #23**

"The car has AC."

Mulder glanced lazily at the controls of the car, but only responded by rolling down the passenger side window. "Save the government a dollar, Krycek, roll down the window."

"You really do enjoy kicking me around like some wet-behind the ears puppy, don't you?"

"You're the one who wanted on my case, Krycek, sorry to disappoint.

"It was my case first, Mulder."

He wasn't in the mood to quibble. "It's a long drive from New York to DC, Krycek, best get comfortable. It's hotter than hell out today."

**Shore-Drabble #24**

Papa was a scientist, not a fisherman. Somehow no one could convince him of that though. Damned, Russian pride.

"Sasha, bring me that bait." He gestured towards the writhing bucket of dirt and earthworms, reaching inside without hesitation to find one particularly fat one to impale. It was his habit, Sunday mornings sitting on Lake Eerie, fishing. Never mind he hadn't caught anything in recent memory.

"Papa, I'm heading to Washington tomorrow." Sometimes he listened, sometimes he didn't. "I've got a job there. I'll be gone a while."

"That's nice." I couldn't tell if his head was in his lab or in his fishing. Maybe both. "Behave yourself, Sasha...call your mother when you can."

"I'll try."


	7. Scully Drabble 25 through 28

_The drabbles are continuing, I've just been lazy in posting! I'm up in the 60's now. I suppose I need to catch up on here-JW_

**Scully Drabbles**

**The Last Time You Loved-Drabble #25**

The finality of the act weighed dead and heavy inside of her it rested somewhere above the comfort of her unborn child. The grit of dirt between her fingers made it no more real than the sight of Mulder's lifeless body had. Somehow she wanted to believe this was still a dream...a horrible, horrible dream.

"Dana, if there's anything..." Skinner's dark eyes belied the worry he kept off his stoic face. Scully shook her head, the words "I'm fine" dying on her lips.

"He loved you...he never would have begged for you to stay if he didn't." It was supposed to be comfort to her, and Scully had to give Skinner credit for trying.

"I know," she murmured, dusting her fingers absently as she watched the mourners file away. "It's because I loved him I stayed."

**Heat-Drabble #26**

It was Saturday in July...and Scully was at work...with her crazy partner.

Correction, she was in records looking up old, newspaper article from Roswell, New Mexico, in 1947, while her alien-loving, UFO hunting partner was downstairs. He was listening to her distant relative Vin Scully call an old Dodger game on TV while he sweated like a pig in the swelter of the AC-less Hoover building.

God, she hated her life.

Would Mulder notice if she slipped outside to get a bit of a cool breeze...get a drink...oooohhh, maybe some ice cream! Yeah...screw his papers, he could swelter.

**Significant-Drabble #27**

"I expect you to tell me the truth."

Mulder never lied to her, but his hazel green eyes avoided hers as he turned for the door. "We're late for the hearing."

"Hearing," Scully followed behind him, eyes blazing. "I know what I saw in that video, Mulder, you helped that terrorist get away. Do you want me to be the one to bring this up?"

He stopped, face stoic impassive. "Scully, there's nothing significant about what you saw on that video."

His dismissal was abrupt, as he entered the elevator, not bothering to see if she followed as the doors closed. She stared at the cold metal for long moments.

"You want to make a bet?"

**Insignificant-Drabble #28**

Small...insignificant...in the end Robert Modell was really just a tiny man.

Mulder's finger's trembled as she wrapped hers around them, pulling him away from Pusher's bedside.

"Don't think about him, anymore, Mulder. You won...you beat him at his game." I'm still alive, she silently added.

Clearly from the devastation still evident in Mulder's gaze, he felt he had lost.


	8. Mulder Drabble 29 through 32

_Catching up on the drabbles, sorry for the delay all.-JW_

**The Kindness (or not) of Strangers-Drabble #29**

Blood trickles down his dark skin, and I can taste it trickling into my mouth. Our weapons are leveled point blank, and something inside of me is screaming that this is madness. I don't move. He wants the strange weapon, the ice pick, but I won't give it up. I've played his games; I've been his puppet, no more. I need to save my mother, and this is the only collateral I've got.

I sneer despite the stinging wounds. "You shoot me and you'll never find it."

**Stitches-Drabble #30**

"Those stitches should fix you up."

Its not the first time that Scully has ever been pressed up this close to me, studying some wound I've managed to have inflicted on myself. Her fingers are feather light against the puckered skin, and its all I can do to not squirm away from her doctor's touch, to push her away from me with a brush off and low mutters about her mothering me.

Her standing there so close was far more dangerous than any head wound could ever be.

**Summer Cold-Drabble #31**

I was trying to be helpful. I set the Kleenex and hot tea on her desk. Scully barely gave them a glance.

"I hate you." It had been her on again, off again litany all day as she sneezed and coughed behind her computer.

"I'm sorry you got sick." It hadn't occurred to me going from the frozen Arctic Circle to mild DC would give my partner a cold. I had barely had so much as a sniffle since childhood.

"You know, maybe you should take the day, Scully, head home, rest up."

"Hate you."

"OK, or just sit there and be miserable."

**Road Trip-Drabble #32**

Crump's blood covered my shirt, my hair; I could smell it in my nostrils. I'd vomit if I could muster the energy to do it. One, piss-ass assignment to drive around farms in Idaho, and I'd spent hours on the road with a man whose head had exploded just feet away from the very edge of the California coast.

I want to jump into the Pacific, to wash it off, cleanse my soul of all the death I had seen. Scully is silent beside me. I slip her the keys of the purloined vehicle.

"Next time, you drive."


	9. Krycek Drabble 33 through 36

_Some of you are weirded out by Krycek drabbles…why? I find him very fascinating.-JW_

**Krycek Drabbles**

**The Last Thing You Lost-Drabble # 33**

His head felt so solid against the muzzle of my weapon. What would it feel like once I'd pulled the trigger? Would the spray go forward, or would I be covered in brains and gore. Bile surged up my throat, but I pressed it back with tight lips.

"Come along, Alex, we have things to do." He stood there, in the shadows, watching me hold a gun up to the head of a husband and father. Not even the man's begging penetrated shield of thick, cigarette smoke.

I closed my eyes and pulled. The crying stopped. The silence rang in my ears.

"There now, Alex, was that so bad?" His tone was silken reason as I fought not to puke all of myself. "The first time is always the worst, that loss of complete innocence, but you'll find it becomes easier as you go along."

**Tune-Drabble # 34**

The heart was such a finely tuned instrument, so delicate, and yet so easily played with.

Skinner was dead. Every vein in his body was charcoal gray against his skin.

He'd always thought he could stand in the middle of this war, robbing Peter to pay Paul. His loyalties were always with Mulder and Scully, even if he couldn't ever completely venture out of the comfort of his position. Mulder at least you could respect for picking something and sticking to it. Skinner rode that damn fence like a Vietnamese hooker.

Still...he could be of some use, especially if I let him live.

**Burn-Drabble # 35**

"Agent Krycek," Skinner frowned at my case request. "You realize that Agent Mulder put in for this case fifteen minutes ago?"

"Agent Mulder, sir?" He'd gotten a jump on it faster than I had expected. "If you look at the paperwork, I filed this an hour before he did."

"You both heard about the same burn victim case...at the same time?" He wasn't buying this.

"My parents both live upstate, they called me about it...I was curious."

"Really?" Skinner didn't believe a word of it.

"Are you going to deny my request, sir?"

"No, I'll give it to you," Skinner signed off on the form with jagged handwriting. "But you'll be the one to break it to Agent Mulder." He passed the paper back to me. "And I don't think he'll be pleased to see you on it."

"Don't worry; I've wanted to meet Agent Mulder for a long time. I'm looking forward to getting to work with him."

**Ring-Drabble #36**

The ring of fire burned around me, the old Johnny Cash song rumbling drunkenly through my head. I giggle drunkenly as my eyes rolled around me, the strange faces circled around me, ringing and ringing and ringing and ringing...

The voices are Russian; I understand them, the words of my parents when I was young. "He'll die from shock."

My left arm burns, and the fire rings around me. It burns, burns, burns...


	10. Scully Drabble 37 through 40

**Scully Drabble**

**A Strange Sound-Drabble #37**

Despite the many times her apartment had been violated in the past, it was still the only place in the world Scully ever felt secure. A childhood as a Navy brat had given her no roots. Georgetown was the first place she had ever been able to call home. And now, after days chasing Donnie Pfaster, the demon at the center of so many of her nightmares, it was here she could escape to flee the creeping dread that had followed her since taking this case with Mulder.

Her clothes slipped to the floor as she pulled on her flannel pajamas. It wasn't till she heard the sound of his breathing that she even realized she was no longer alone. By then it was too late.

**Sticky-Drabble #38**

Her world was covered in a sticky haze, a putrid greenish-yellow as the voices jumbled around her.

"Agent Scully, can you hear me?" Was that Skinner? She couldn't be sure. Why did she feel so groggy? Where had she been? And what was this film covering her, filling her nostrils, clinging to her skin.

The ambulance was cool and dark. Beside her she could sense rather than see Mulder, knew he was there and had always been there, even when she thought he was dead. How could she think that? Wordlessly she reached across the space to try to reach him, to reassure her he was alive and not the figment of her fevered dreams.

His fingers met hers in the space between them, slimy and sticky, but so wonderfully warm.

**Superstition-Drabble #39**

The bat rested between them on the bleachers as they watched the kid Mulder hired run across the deep, emerald grass, retrieving baseballs.

"What is your baseball superstition?" Scully glanced sideways at Mulder, leaning back as he stared at the stars.

"Not washing my game socks."

"Oh, ick." She snorted despite the face she made.

"What's your?"

"Don't have any, don't play baseball."

"You have superstitions though."

She shrugged slowly, debating on if she should admit it. "I like wishing on the first evening star."

Mulder grinned slowly, pointing to one shining in the twilight above. "There's one...what will you wish for?"

"If I tell you, Mulder, it won't come true."

**Breakdown-Drabble #40**

She would bend, she would not break...she wouldn't break...

"Death...by lethal injection."

Nine years, their search for the truth, the loss of their family members, their reputations, their son...and it all came down to this. They couldn't stop him; they couldn't shut him down...so now they would kill him.

She wouldn't break...

The sob that tore through her crushed that resolve. Hot tears scalded her skin as around her the world fell completely apart.


	11. Mulder Drabble 41 through 44

**Mulder Drabbles**

**Run-in With The Neighbors-Drabble #41**

"You're girlfriend seems really nice?"

The new guy stood just outside his door, watching as the elevator closed on Scully, looking slightly ashamed. As if he got caught watching us make out in the hall.

"Girlfriend?" It takes me a moment as I glance back at the elevator, confused. "Oh...no, that's my partner, the woman I work with. We are working on a case." I try to remember this guys name...he was a writer, I think. What did he write again?

"I saw her on the way up, she just seem like a good person." There was that shame in his eyes again. "I'm sorry, I can't help it, I'm always watching people. I just find her fascinating."

Fascinating? Something prickles on my neck as he shuffles back into his apartment. Men fascinated with Scully are never a good thing.

**Travel Troubles-Drabble #42**

I ditched that two-faced, son-of-a-bitch Krycek too early. The large, beefy matron behind the ticket counter bristled her mustache at me as she glared at my passport, muttering something in Russian.

"You don't understand," I insisted, aching with fatigue and desperation, smoothing down my filthy hair. "I'm an American citizen, I work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and I need to get on that plane."

I wasn't sure, but I believe she just told me to "fuck off" in Russian. Authority clearly doesn't work. How about a charming smile and a well-placed compliment? What woman doesn't love a bit of flirtation? So what if she had a face that looked as if someone got loose on her with a hatchet.

"You know," I drop my tone down smoothly, shooting her a knowing look. "I've always had a thing for tall, Eastern European women. I know this great place we could go, so caviar, a little wine..."

I barely saved my fingertips as she slammed her service window shut.

**Pitching-A-Tent-Drabble #43**

I don't believe in God, but sweet Jesus, I need to convince him to make my partner stop wearing that outfit to work. I forced myself to remember how to breathe, trying hard not to stare at the perfectly appropriate and hopelessly seductive pencil skirt, and the way it forms to her figure and hugs the curves of her amazing...

"Mulder," Scully cuts off my completely inappropriate thoughts, hardly looked up from the expense report she was reading, missing my guilty start as she frowned at the paper in confusion. "Is there a reason you charged $500 of camping gear in last months report?"

"It's all gear that is useful in our investigations, Scully." I shifted uncomfortably in my desk chair, painfully aware of just how far I had let my thoughts wander from our work. Had she noticed?

"Care to explain to Skinner why it is we need a four person tent?"

"You, me, enough room for equipment, I think its justified."

"Yeah, because Skinner will be perfectly understanding of two of his agents shacking up in a tent together doing God knows what, where." Scully snorted, perching on the corner of my desk without even bothering to glance at the devastation she was causing. "No offense, Mulder, but between you and me unless we get our spending down, I don't see you pitching any tents anywhere for a while."

"I don't know about that," I mutter softly, squirming once again, cursing the non-existent God for his masochistic sense of humor.

**Baggage-Drabble #44**

"You didn't tell the little woman about me?" Phoebe's dark eyes danced.

"Scully is my partner, Phoebe, I respect her. I know that's a concept foreign to you."

"Respect is usually code for being hopelessly unattracted, Fox. Pity, she is rather cute in a ginger sort of way."

"And you wonder why I said nothing."

"Have you at least told her about your last female partner?" Now Phoebe was thrusting the knife in, turning it for the sheer, sick amusement. "I mean you respected that one too. How long were you married to Diana again?" She only smiled up at my darkening glare. "Oh come off it, Fox, what's a little excess baggage, everyone has got some."

"Some of us more than others, Phoebe."


	12. Krycek Drabble 45 through 48

**Krycek Drabble**

**The Last Time You Were Late-Drabble #45**

He was supposed to be dead before his son got here.

I knew I had fucked up the minute I heard the younger Mulder's dry monotone float from the living room and swore. The plan was to have eliminated the father before he had a chance to reveal the truths he knew. I may have to kill them both now. That wasn't in the plan.

"Would you excuse me?" Bill Mulder's steps were heavy and ponderous down the hallway. I slip behind the curtain of the bathroom. I may be in luck after all.

**Endings-Drabble #46**

The nurses screams echoed through the hallway as I took Marita's cold fingers.

"Do you think this will end it?" She sounded dubious.

"Probably not." The body of the evil bastard hardly twitched as I glanced back up to the landing where he had come to rest, the wheels of his wheelchair still spinning. "But it's an end for me. He will never be able to touch us again."

Marita clearly didn't buy that either...she never was stupid.

**A Summer Sport-Drabble #47**

A crack, a groan, the crowd at the bar booed mildly at the large screen TV, nursing their beers and muttering imprecations about "damned Yankees." The only person watching it who seemed to be pleased was Mulder.

"Didn't take you for a Yankees man. Weren't you raised near Boston?"

"I always was an ironic sort of guy," Mulder smirked, nursing his MGD. "Watch baseball?"

"Some. Lived upstate, so I always preferred the Blue Jays."

"I'm sorry for you." Spoken like a true, arrogant Yankee fan.

"Ehh, it's all right," I turn to the action on the screen. "I guess I always had the habit of backing the wrong horse."

**Revelation-Drabble #48**

I had wanted him to win so badly, had tried time and time again in small ways to push it, to protect him. He had no idea how deeply this went, what he was up against. Mulder never understood that he could never win this game by holding personal attachments.

All he sees is Scully's child, his son. He's more sentimental than his father. Mulder was always far too noble for his own good.

"One bullet...and I can give you a thousand lives."

I shouldn't have been surprised at the bullet racing to lodge between my eyes. I was more surprised that it was Skinner who fired it.


	13. Scully Drabble 49 through 52

**Scully Drabble**

**Accidental Discovery-Drabble #49**

She must have heard the doctor wrong.

"Excuse me, what?" She had just fainted; she had a nasty case of the flu. That was all; no one was trying to take her into a space ship. And certainly, medically she couldn't be...

"Pregnant, Agent Scully. I thought you as a doctor would have recognized the signs...did you not expect this?" The woman was sympathetic, but surprised. She wasn't the only one.

"Err...I was told that I...couldn't..." Her voice trailed off faintly as she realized what it was this woman was saying. Pregnant...she was pregnant?

"Well, congratulations!" The doctor smiled broadly. "I'm sure you and the father must be thrilled!"

Father...Mulder...what would he say? She sent him to Oregon without any idea...

"I think surprised is much closer to it." And a word woefully, woefully inadequate.

**Treasure-Drabble #50**

"Do you ever clean your couch?"

Mulder snorted as he sorted through files. "Do you want an honest answer to that question?"

"Do I get to keep the money I find between the cushions?"

"Nope, I need that for laundry." He watched as she removed well-worn, leather cushions and probed around underneath. "You are a braver man than I am, Gunga Din."

"I better be well paid for my services."

"Pizza with mushrooms?"

"You are a horrible employer, Mulder."

**Picture: Ants On A Picnic Blanket-Drabble #51**

Gentle snores broke the hum of June bugs through the lazy, summer haze. Lazily Scully flicked a roaming ant off her hand, the adventurous insect scurrying back to its fellows plundering the remains of their picnic lunch. She watched it for long moments, her head pillowed against the soft rise and fall of her partner's chest.

"I can hear you thinking," he murmured sleepily, shifting from his nap.

"Just watching the ants as they work." She had been an ant once, tied to the federal government, never stopping to enjoy the lazy, summer afternoons. Mulder had been even worse. Now here they were, curled together, watching the afternoon float along.

Not that she missed being an ant for a minute.

**Picture: Barbecue Grill-Drabble #52**

"So Bill says your partner believes in aliens."

Scully felt herself bristle as she glared first at Bill, who guiltily got busy with the grill, then at her brother Charlie who had innocently asked the question.

"Bill should learn to mind his own damned business and not gossip about my work."

"Hey, it's not like its a dirty secret," Bill protested in response.

"No, but it's not like you understand a damn thing, do you?"

"Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut," Charlie muttered into his beer.


	14. Mulder Drabble 53 through 56

**Mulder Drabbles**

**Picture: Box of Photographs-Drabble #53**

I don't know how she missed this box, Mom had burned everything else.

"Is that you?" Scully chuckled as she found a black and white photograph of me as a toddler, a bowl full of ice cream upturned on my head.

"Yeah, first birthday. I think strawberry suited me."

"God, you were a cutie then."

"I'm not a cutie now?"

She pauses, flushing slightly with a knowing smile. "I didn't say that. Quit fishing for compliments."

At least she hadn't said no.

**Picture: Broken Clock-Drabble #54**

Time...we were running out of it.

"We got all of our best men out there, Agent Mulder, we will find her."

I didn't look up from the photograph, the one of her screaming as she reached out. Was she calling for help...for me again? I swallow hard.

"We don't have time." I am trying hard not to bite his head off, he's doing the best he can. "What do we got on the rental he stole?"

**Picture: Chinese Lantern-Drabble #55**

"Try it, it's good."

"What is it?" I stare at the fried bit of something on a stick. Scully had thought a walk through San Francisco's Chinatown would be fun, something different. I personally wondered why she kept shoving strange foods under my nose.

"It's a dumpling, Mulder, it's tasty."

"Why do I suspect you are lying to me?"

"Have I made you eat anything you would hate?"

"Yes," I grumble petulantly as she rolled her eyes.

**Picture: Crossroads-Drabble #56**

"You don't need me, Mulder. You never have. I've just held you back."

Was that really what she thought of herself...of us? I'm too stunned for words as she turns and walks out the door, walking out of my life forever. Her words scream in my ears, but all I can think is that I can't let her go. Need her...of course I need her, like I need air to breath I need Dana Scully. How had I not told her this, made her understand?

Guilt told me to say put, to let her go and live the normal life that I had taken away from her. But my gut rebelled at that. Let her go, beg her to stay? How much of a selfish prick was I?

I scrambled for the door, desperation formulating a plea as I went.


	15. Krycek Drabble 57 through 60

**Krycek Drabble**

**Picture: Dandelion Fluff-Drabble #57**

Tufts of dandelion trailed across the front deck, somewhere within the depths of the house children giggled and screeched.

"It's summer holidays." He shrugged thin shoulders by way of explanation, falling into the British "holiday" over the American "vacation". He shot an indulgent smile into the cool of the doorway. "My daughter thought it would be an adventure for them, visiting America with their grandfather."

I'm guessing his daughter doesn't know about her father's side project. "How long will they be in town?"

"A month. Then we return to London." One of the older boys burst from the door, running pell mell for the stables across the way. "Keep an eye on him for me, Alex, would you? Make sure he doesn't find any trouble out on his ride?"

The cold glitter of his eyes reminds me failure brings punishment, and I've failed enormously. I should be grateful for being a babysitter...I could be dead.

**Picture: Ferris Wheel-Drabble #58**

Lock...click...wait...

I could smell kettle corn on the wind, and it made my mouth water. It was sweet and savory and it smelled of a million summers with kids screaming, and sweat making my skin itch, and begging my parents to stay up just a little longer.

The Ferris Wheel turned through my sight, the car rising up to the top. I waited for half a heartbeat, watched, and pulled the trigger at my fingertip. The rifle jerked slightly, oil and gunpowder now masking the sweet scent from below.

The only clue I had that I was successful was the drunken sway of the car, and the screams carried on the summer breeze, sharp and piercing. So much for an innocent, August evening.

**Picture: Man Fly Fishing-Drabble #59**

"There is an art to fly fishing." The old man stood quietly in the cold river, waders cutting against the chill of the water. I didn't tell him how incongruous it looked him standing there, lips curled in concentration rather than around a cigarette on his lips.

"I know...my father loves to fish." It's all I can say to him, this associate of my Papa's. He says he's his friend. It doesn't explain the look of fear in my father's eyes whenever he goes to his office.

"Have you given much thought to your future, Sasha?" I bristle at his casual flippancy, his bored disregard.

"My name is Alexei, not Sasha...only my father calls me that." He is not my father, only a man, just like any other. "Most people call me Alex."

"A nice, American name, Alex. It must have been hard growing up, being Russian and all." He sighs, casting his line again. "We were discussing your future, Alex...I have an opportunity for you, if you choose."

**Picture: Frog-Drabble #60**

"Seriously, you lick the back of a frog and it makes you see stars and shit?" I couldn't tell how much of this was Fox Mulder spooky bullshit and how much of this was actual weird, strange ass, weird crap he'd discovered somewhere.

"No lie, the toxins on the frogs skin are designed to poison most of its predators, but for humans it's merely psychotropic. There are people who go out in search of them in order to have spiritual journeys."

The problem with Mulder was that even when he was sitting at his desk, straight as could be, you knew he could be pulling your leg somehow, making you look like an ass. "You ever hunt down a frog for a spiritual journey?"

"I smoked a joint outside of Graceland once, does that count?"


End file.
